


Home

by singedsun



Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, Femslash February, Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singedsun/pseuds/singedsun
Summary: She told Trish some of the story. There were people in her dream she could name, who she’d never met. And Trish would wake her up, hold her tight and brush fingers through her hair until she returned to sleep again. The woman deserved a medal.





	Home

The dreams hadn’t kept her up in years. Some of that was time, some of that was the gloves and some of that was just being comfortable at Shirley’s house and doing her own thing. The gloves always helped and later, strangely, the money from Steven helped too. While she never would’ve done it herself, something about the fact that Steven had managed to make good on that awful place made her feel better about it. Like it’d been  _ for _ something. Not that she’d tell him that. She wouldn’t tell any of them that. 

It was easier maybe to just think of it as settled after Steve and the book. Not all of them could, she knew, but this is what she’d been trained to do. Find ways to deal and put it behind her. It was the only good way she knew how to help everyone else. 

The night they’d gone back to the house had fucked that all up. Honestly, Nell’s death had done that, but those dreams had been Nell and not the house. Or their mom. 

Nell had opened a door for them that Luke had walked right through and the rest of them had blindly followed. They’d done it for love, but nothing had really prepared them for what they were walking back in to. 

If she thought about it rationally, she’d like to believe that knowing what she knows now, she’d be even better equipped than she ever was. The first few nights back at Shirley’s though, she slept like shit. She talked aloud to Nell, she asked Shirley to spend the night, she texted Trish way more than she should’ve. She knew she’d done horribly by that woman and yet, somehow, Trish kept coming back, kept letting her in, kept wrapping her up in warmth and understanding. 

Trish woke her up from the worst of the dreams that had crawled back into her subconscious. Now that she knew what the house was, what it was really capable of, she didn’t have to dream about the past anymore for it to frighten her. Her own memories were less scarring than the real possibilities of a house that fed off its inhabitants.

It was bad enough there were monsters in the world that manipulated and misled the living. 

She told Trish some of the story. There were people in her dream she could name, who she’d never met. And Trish would wake her up, hold her tight and brush fingers through her hair until she returned to sleep again. The woman deserved a medal. She deserved an explanation. Better than that she deserved her own nights of peaceful sleep, all for putting up with Theo’s shitty dreams if nothing else. 

And still somehow, she stayed. 

It hadn’t been Theo’s idea to find a new place. But Trish had waited somehow for Theo to say it first, to make the gesture. Theo loved her for that. For so many things, but waiting until Theo was ready to move away from Shirley’s without prodding, without persuasion, it meant more than most of the million other patient ways Trish showed her love. Theo had needed to be ready to leave Shirley. She had to be ready to go somewhere new.

It had to be a place that didn’t send her nightmares. For both of their sakes. Open views, big ceilings and windows, few walls -- the place had to be everything Hill House wasn’t. It had to be open and new and welcoming. And had to come with one, Trish Park. 


End file.
